Killing Machine
by Shenlong7
Summary: The story of Gamma Squad as they try to survive long enough to make it out alive. M for Gore and violence. Now an anthology.Go beyond the events of Gears of War and find out how the battle went between the events of Gears of War and Gears of War 2
1. Chapter 1

Killing Machine

Disclaimer: I do not own Gears of War

* * *

Captain Kurt Pliskin was a man about the regular size of a Gear except with longer legs that seemed to give off some indication of agility. His uniform was the typical COG armor with the variation of having open short sleeves that showed off the scars and tattoos on his long arms that seemed to be longer than an average person's. He was the only one of his group and probably COG forces to have a scar that curved up his cheek like a smirk. His hair was medium size, a bit longer than what military norms would be, but his hair couldn't reach in front of his eyes despite having a few strands fall in front of his forehead. Unlike his squad, he had auburn hair that sometimes looked red and was probably the only person in the military with that hair color.

"Alright men, command wants us freezing our asses off on that roof top with the football by morning," said Captain Kurt Pliskin as he put the cigarette out on the piece of debris that littered the ground. "We expect heavy enemy fire and there will be krill waiting to kill any poor bastard who steps out into the dark, but this is the best time to hit them. Most of the grunts are tired from the bombing and hit and runs that other squads have been doing so we should get light resistence."

"What about reinforcements from emergence holes," asked Lieutenant David Styles as he shouldered his Lancer rifle and started to clean his snub pistol. "The Locust are out to stop us at any costs and right now it seems that they have been doing a good job at hitting any forces and checkpoints that were left for us between the drop off point and here."

"Well there is no other way, unless you want to just wait until the war is over," replied the captain as he turned to look at the two privates, Richard Valentine and Vincent Price. "Both of you better be ready to get into the fight because we won't be waiting for no one, except for Beta squad."

"I guess there is no choice but to charge right in, sir," declared Pvt. Vincent as he started to fiddle with his gun and pulled off his helmet to stroke his black hair. None of the men had hair as dark as Price's nor were they as pale as him due to the fact that he was the only one who was wearing a helmet. He was also the one who was least eager to fight unlike the rowdy Richard Valentine, a blond haired boy who was bouncing off the wall to get into a fight.

"I'm up for it, I'd like to actually get a fight going for a change instead of all this running," exclaimed Richard as he started to rev his chainsaw bayonet in a frenzy. "I mean this squad is led by a man who is famous for killing Locust, ain't that right Captain, sir?"

"The killing was accidental, I only killed because I was forced to fight," replied Plisken as he ran a hand over his hair and started to stand up and took out his Lancer rifle. "Right now we better move to the rally point before it gets dark, we don't want to leave Beta squad out there in the middle of a Kryll swarm."

"Okay then you heard the Captain let's mount up," barked Lt. Styles as he picked up his rifle and slung his shotgun over his shoulder for close contact. "Just give the words, sir."

"Let's move out," ordered Plisken as he pointed to Richard. "Valentine you're on point!"

"Yes sir!" cried the happy soldier in response as he ran out in front of the group.

They started to march out near the street using the cars and damaged buildings for cover as they moved down the street and came to an intersection. Luckily Price made a habit of having a sniper rifle with him since he was the team's sharp shooter and checked around the corner for any enemies that might be hiding. When the coast seemed to be clear, Gamma squad started to move to the other side while checking around in a group for enemy fire. Everything was too quiet for that time of day, especially with the darkness coming; the Locust would be moving to get one last attack before being confined to lighted areas. Pvt. Richard started to move to the open area while crouching down so he was harder to hit and he reached the safety of a destroyed car that was used for cover. From his spot of cover he could catch sight of two grunts standing around out in the open.

"I've got two targets, permission to fire, sir," said the Pvt. Over his comm. link as Plisken picked up the line.

"Permission denied, we don't want to bring any attention to ourselves yet," replied the Captain as he started to peer out of his cover and then looked over at Richard who was acting as sniper from atop of one of the abandoned buildings.

"I don't see any snipers or enemy troops in the area," said Richard before he added, "though this is not a detailed observation, sir."

"Don't fire until I give the orders for weapons free," commanded Captain Plisken as he waited for Richard's detailed observation.

"Sorry, sir, but I don't think we can wait for that," replied Pvt. Valentine as he put his finger on the trigger and was ready to fire before Plisken intervened, grabbing the top of his weapon.

"If you're going to be in this squad you better learn to follow orders or else you won't be in this company," hissed Plisken as he let go of the weapon and then brought up his channel with Richard. "Any words on that report?"

"It appears to be only these two, probably stranded from their company," replied Richard over the link.

"Okay then, take the shot," ordered Plisken and Pvt. Valentine raised his gun to fire at one of the grunts while Richard took the other one out with a headshot.

"Tangos down," cheered Valentine as he stepped up from the cover and was immediately hit by the stray bullet from the last burst from one of the grunts, the one he had shot.

"Damn it, don't just jump up like it's a game of hide-and-go-seek," scolded Captain Plisken as he pulled Valentine down and then popped up to take the grunt out with another concentrated burst.

Valentine had been shot in the shoulder, the bullet managed to get lodge into the bone, the unluckiest of hits that was rewarded to those who God really had something against. With a curse, Plisken pulled out his knife and started to perform surgery to cut the bullet out while using one of his medical supplies to sow the wound up. The wound was able to be covered with a padded bandage that was given to all Gears in case of a wound occurring in battle that would make others bothered. After being certain that the wound was cleaned and closed, Plisken gave Valentine a pain stimulant so that he could still use the arm while the padded bandage would help the blood clots to form.

"Okay then, now that we've had our daily dose of stupid we can get moving again," announced Plisken as he stood up with his rifle in his hands and looked up at the sky. "We should be close to the area where Beta squad was so let's move!"

* * *

The Gears marched through the Locust territory, using alley ways and other short cuts to end up at the checkpoint during the final hour of daylight. The checkpoint was mostly an abandoned warehouse with lighting in it to protect itself from Kryll as well as mounted Troika's to protect them from grunt attacks. Beta squad consisted of three men, two privates and a sergeant. The youngest private was a man nearing the age of twenty-six and was probably the smallest in size having almost barely the average build of the army or rather barely in the range of an army build, and his face was covered with one of the helmets. He only stood at 5'6 with a very frail look and for some reason looked to be the greenest member. The other private, Private Quincy Morris was a big man with lightly tanned skin and a very slight mustache that almost looked like he had something on his upper lip. He was very well built for an army man, not as built as the famous Thrashball player, Private Augustus Cole, but still he was a big man.

Pvt. Price had a regular army look to him and was probably only distinguished for his drowsy look that made him look like some type of army drone. By contrast, Private Valentine was a bit bigger than Price with an army shave as well as the look of a big kid waiting for his playtime. His lieutenant, David Styles, was probably one of the vainest military men in the company because he always styled his hair with grease and would often spend time using a small mirror to wipe his face off. Before the war he was a bit of a lady's man, having a girlfriend in every city in Seras before the Locust attack forced him from the reserve and into action. Many had thought he would buckle up under the pressure from the rather dainty appearance he put on, but when push came to shove, Lt. Styles was one to push back, a trait that had made him Cpt. Plisken's go to man.

"Well then how many of you are here," asked Plisken as he lit a cigarette and started to look around at the Gears around him. The sergeant, a bald man with one blue eye stepped forward and saluted him.

"We're only three men strong, sir," replied the sergeant before adding, "I'm Sgt. Jonathan Crane, sir!"

"At ease, I want everyone to get any ammo they can and get ready to move out," announced Plisken as he looked at each soldier. The men dispersed to check around the rooms for spare ammunition and grenades that could be used later on in the battle. They all came back a few minutes later, standing at attention as they waited for their orders. "Okay then I want distance between numbers and stick to cover, I'm not losing most of you to snipers or Corpsers. Alright then move on, Morris I want you in the front."

"Yes sir!"

Pvt. Morris was holding one of the grub Hammerbursts, probably a good idea for at least one of them to have that, but for a point man that would be a bad idea since the enemies would be too close for the Hammerburst to be used efficiently. Following the large private was Private Jeremy Wilson, the greenest member of the group who seemed to be getting shakier by the second as they walked through the lighted area, Kryll swarming around them. The lighted path was safe enough, but it had the disadvantage of being narrow enough so that the enemy could easily keep them from advancing all night. Why Command wouldn't get lights for a much larger area was unknown but it was probably the original lights that had been there before and so that was all they had to use. Still, Captain Plisken was disappointed in the choice of lighting, but luckily they made it into the open area without an incident, a luck that was very rare.

"Finally we get off that narrow path," sighed Pvt. Jeremy as he let out a sigh of relief before he was hit in the stomach by one of the bullets from a grub sniper. In a flash, Pvt. Price had his sniper rifle aimed and placed a round right between the Grub snipers eyes, while the rest of the group ducked for cover.

"What's Pvt. Jeremy's status," asked Plisken as he raised his Lancer up and put down a line of fire on the grubs that were popping out of the emergence hole.

"He's still alive, but hit badly," replied Sgt. Crane as he pulled the young private to cover and then proceeded to deliver medical treatment to his wounds.

"Okay then, try and save his life meanwhile, Price, Morrison, and Styles, I want you to lay down some covering fire! Pvt. Valentine, you're with me!"

Price nodded instead of responding with the typical "yes sir" that was expected, but Plisken didn't care much about that, just as long as he was concentrating on sniping. Styles peered around the corner while aiming his Lancer at the enemy and let fire on the enemy, bullets peppering his cover while he fired a burst right into the leg of one of the grubs causing it to fall forward. He then brought the gun up to fire at its head, brains splattering out of its skull in a grayish-red matter that stained the floor.

Plisken didn't need a second as he started to rush right to one of the heavily damaged cars that were abandoned on the street with bullets flying over his head. The blood pumped through his temple as the adrenaline kicked in turning everything around him into one big haze as he slammed himself into the car and raised his gun to shoot over the roof. Behind him was Pvt. Valentine, who was foolishly gunning at everything that was around him as if it was some type of game to him, and the grubs started to concentrate their fire on him. Valentine would have been a damn good soldier if he hadn't been a stupid one, standing right in the clear while he started shooting off wildly and then when the bullets started to swarm to him, he panicked. Without a second thought he started to fire off wildly not even realizing that he gun was clicking empty as the bullets started to hit him in the shoulder and leg, bringing him down while the bullets flew over his head.

"Now I'm pissed," growled Captain Plisken as he rose to a standing position and started pressing on forward while shooting at the grubs.

Pvt. Valentine turned his head to see the bullets flying over Captain Plisken, as if no bullet would dare touch him and his own gun was unleashing a horizontal rain of death. There was something about the Captain, just from the way he looked as he fired upon the different grubs and then he lunged the nearest, his hand on the handle that was placed at the side of the assault rifle as he revved the chainsaw bayonet. He growled as red clouded his vision, only focusing on the frightened look on the face of the grub as he pushed the chainsaw blades right through it, slowly cutting it into pieces as he cursed and spat at it. He hated grubs, he hated his enemy, because he was a perfect soldier and a perfect soldier was only alive when he killed.

"Whose next," asked Plisken, his question booming out like thunder in a quiet night and he looked around to see that there was nothing left, only corpses.

"Alright then soldier, you're going to be okay," said Sgt. Crane as he tended to the wounds of the private, leaving Pvt. Jeremy's corpse behind in the dust. He was able to get Pvt. Valentine to somewhere near combat ready, but he wouldn't be able to do much for movement.

"There is a hill for us to capture, right now we have to make a run for it," announced Plisken as he pulled the mechanism for releasing the empty clip and slapped in a new one. "I hope you're ready for Hell men because I am."

* * *

Hell was the right word for it because as soon as they got to the base of the hill the grubs started to open fire on them with the Hammerbursts, bullets coming down like a deadly rain of metal. Captain Plisken slammed himself into cover while he watched his men do the same. Sgt. Crane was hit in the foot, causing him to stay behind as the rest of the squad navigated through the terrain while Price would stop at a place to fire at the grubs while the bullets hit the war torn hill. Pieces of rubble from the destroyed buildings provided excellent cover for the squad while Private Vincent Price stayed there to shoot at the grubs.

Plisken was the first to reach the house on the top of the hill as a lone grub started to fire out of the doorway, the bullets hitting Plisken in the side while he revved his chainsaw bayonet. Adrenaline pumped into his blood as he charged at the grub and raised his bayonet to bring it down on the grub, shredding through the skin as blood spurted out like a gushing fountain. Behind him was Lt. Styles, who was armed with a shotgun and used it to blow apart the face of the grub that was about to fire at Plisken.

"Clear out the rooms," ordered Plisken as he watched each man walk into the house before running out to find Sgt. Crane. It was obvious just from the way that Crane was laying that he was dead and this was only confirmed when Plisken lifted his head to see a bullet hole in his head. Not wanting to leave his body behind, Plisken picked him up and brought him into the house.

"Damn, we're short two men," cursed Styles as he saw the body of the sergeant laid out on a long wooden table that showed signs of decay in the legs and was partially burnt on the top. A lot of the house was marred by burnings or holes in the walls while the furniture was almost non-existent.

"We can manage here," said Plisken as he looked out of the window and into the cloudy night sky. "We'll wait here until evac arrives, but for now everyone pick a spot in this house and keep an eye out for enemy soldiers."

"Morning is almost up, but I don't think Pvt. Valentine will make it till we get him medical attention."

"Right now I'm beginning to wonder if any of us will make it through this night as well," replied Plisken as he sat down on what remained of a sofa. "The enemy is bound to be coming soon and I don't know if we have the ammo to take them all on. Even if we did this is probably the worst position to be in for us while they can easily send millions up here to fight us."

"You'll survive this one," said Styles. "You're a killing machine, doesn't matter how many they bring here."

"Wish I wasn't though because I'd have had a better life if I was not a killing soldier, just an average soldier. The only thing that could kill a killing machine is peace and that is why I'll always lose."


	2. Chapter 2

Morning Glory

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyrights to Gears of War, but I own the game and soon I will have the sequel.

* * *

The night was still dominant over the sky as the krill swarmed around the building, beating their wings against the walls until Pvt. Price would shine his light through the window onto one. His comrade, Pvt. Valentine, was laying in the bed right next to his, probably the only one who was getting any sleep besides Sgt. Crane and Pvt. Jeremy, two more names for the long list of KIA. A lot of the grubs were still trying to make large, but insignificant pushes for this hill. Cpt. Plisken was easily more determined and showed no signs of slowing down as he mercilessly gunned down all grubs who came near with a Hammerburst and would go down to pick up the weapons after they were discarded. Most of the group was asleep except for the two officers that took the first and probably only watch. It was unfair for they had been fighting hard the whole night, probably harder than any other soldier that was getting sleep. Ammo was probably getting scarcer with each shot and it was only a matter of time before they ran out of even the Hammerburst rounds, despite the bold runs for enemy ammo that Lt. Styles did.

"Another grub push," announced Pvt. Morrison as he sat down near the window with his gun pointed at the enemy. "That makes about, seven this thirty minutes and it's getting near dawn. The LZ is gonna be too hot for anyone to land in so how do they plan on getting us out of here?"

"You don't know anything do you," said Price as he started to lay back and started to recite a poem that he had remembered from so long ago, his favourite from his childhood. "They are most likely going to cause some grand distraction by causing an explosion that will cause the enemy move towards that area in fear of it being taken. Also they will allow false information of us being a decoy group for the other while sending out Ravens for us."

"That sounds downright insane from the way you say it," laughed Morrison a bit bitterly at the thought of the plan of escape depending on other soldiers being killed. "It will still be risky, after all, we don't know how many they are willing to send against us."

"There are other squads that are acting as decoys right now as well so they have to attack all equally," retorted Price and he looked over at Valentine, who seemed to be very calm, almost as if he had already died. "When it comes morning we're going to have to get into the fighting, so let's get some rest so that they can rest."

"Yeah I hear that," replied Morrison as he laid himself down on the small mat in the corner.

* * *

The bullets flew over their heads and right past them as the grubs continued to fire on the two officers, who returned fire during the reloads or did scatter fire for the other. Plisken was chewing on the bud of the cigarette that he had in his mouth and started to get rather annoyed at the presence of grubs in the area, so he started to toss whatever grenades they had left at them. The screams of dying grubs filled the air as he continued to fire at the ones that were left after the burst of the grenade, his bullets cutting through the smoke and fog of early morning. A lone grub made it close to the house only to be taken out by a shot from what sounded like one of the Boltok pistols. Twin thunder claps set off, one sounding stronger than the other and from the smoke ran two stranded who were shooting behind them, laughing the whole way.

The first one was of a man of African American descent, dark skinned with a full head of dreads that were shorter than the stylized version and seemed to be wilder. The second man was a pale faced, sickly looking man who seemed to be overcompensating for his weak appearance by wielding the Boltok pistol. Plisken was wondering what force kept that large handcannon in his hand and what made the other, healthier man carry the snub pistol. With Stranded, you get a lot of odd things and this was one of them.

"Man dem dumb sons a' bitches can't lay shit on us," shouted the pale man as he started to fire back, his pistol having a recoil that nearly pulled his arm off.

"What have I told you, Simmons, hold it with both hands," warned the African American as he started to hold out his hand for Plisken to shake. "Darian Kihmmler at your service."

"Captain Kurt Plisken," replied the Captain as he looked at the two and then offered a cigarette to them.

"No thank you I don't smoke," said Darian as he graciously refused to take the cigarette as he started to reload his handgun. "There may be a battalion of those bastards following us on the surface level, but I can't say much about underground emergence holes."

"I can seal those up real easy, but you can come with us to the base," said Plisken and he started to bring out two shotguns that weren't being used. "We got plenty of shells for taking care of emergence holes and we got hammerbursts for taking care of rushers, but we're probably gonna run out of ammo soon."

"At least we can take some of dem ugly motherfuckers with us," cheered the sickly man as he picked up one of the shotguns. "My name is Gunther Peal and I came here to do some killing!"

"You're friend is a bit over eager," said Plisken before he caught the charging grubs out the corner of his eye. "Hold on a second."

Plisken brought the hammerburst to bear and started to fire at any that got within his range while David forced some of the grubs to take cover in Plisken's way by using the automatic fire of his Lancer rifle. There were some loud bangs coming from up above, probably Pvt. Price still firing at whatever grub he could get while the others went to sleep. They had a full moment until the sun came up and then they had a few hours until the Ravens reached them on the rooftop. It would be hard, but they had to clear out the grubs in the area by then.

"Okay then I want us to get out whatever explosives we can find because as soon as this place is lit we're going to clear these grounds of these ugly bastards," announced Plisken while he aimed his rifle and took out a grub. "Let's go I think I'm staring at the first rays of dawn right here! Sleep time is over men, now let's show them who they're fucking with!"

* * *

Price looked at Pvt. Valentine, who looked like he was doing well for his wounds, and then started to pull out grenades from the secret hiding places that the grubs had. Luck seemed to smile on him because a grub sniper had been living in that room and before that, a group of Gears had left some Lancer ammo. They had probably died before they could use it and so it remained, buried under the floor boards of the room. Most of the group was searching around while someone kept up a general line of fire to prevent the grubs from surrounding them, but that would only do so much since they could burst out the ground whenever they felt like it. Pvt. Morrison had about ten grenades lined up on his neck as he walked down the stairs with a tired look on his face. Price couldn't find any grenades, but he was at least able to find something better in the floorboards.

"Captain Plisken, I've found ammo for Lancers, over," said Price as he started to walk down the stairs and felt his leg being grabbed by something as he was being pulled through the floorboards. He looked back to see a grunt pulling out the Boltok pistol at its side. It had been pretending to be dead while waiting for the perfect moment to spring out and grabbed it, but in the process it had to give up its assault rifle to fake it. "Oh shit!"

* * *

Lt. Styles perked his ears as he heard the crack of a Boltok pistol in the back and then turned to see who was present at the fight. The sun had started to stretch its fingers out above the sky as the swarm of Kryll dispersed, allowing Plisken more maneuverability in his defense while Styles walked to the back. He walked near the stair room to find the Stranded named Gunther helping pull Price from the cold dead hands of the grub behind the stairs. Price looked deathly pale, he must have been caught by surprise from what Styles could see and Gunther was so lively for a man who looked like he had been bed ridden by cancer. The grub had a huge hole through his head with brain splatters all over the rotting wood of the stairs and some of the destroyed walls that had burn marks and shrapnel embedded in them.

"Okay you two, Price I want you to stay behind and you as well Gunther," said Styles as he took a deep breath and expected protesting from the Stranded. "Right now we don't know if there will be any emergence holes in the house area so we need to leave our close quarters men in the house."

"Alright then, I'll do my duty," saluted the Stranded before going off to patrol the basement area.

"On me, we're about to head out and do some cleaning," called Cpt. Plisken as he picked up one of the ammo clips on the table in what remained of the kitchen.

"Alright sir," called Styles as he ran back to group up with the captain and Pvt. Morrison.

By the time Styles reached the area Morrison was already unloading covering fire while Plisken ran out with his Lancer held by the chainsaw grip. Instead of the precision aiming, Plsiken decided to just do automatic firing to manage the hordes and clump them together enough so Price could line up shots easier. Without a second thought, Styles launched himself outside and started firing into the grubs as his rounds sprayed over torsos and heads while Morrison started to move from the door. Each man was covering the other so they could get close to where the grubs were ducking cover from in the dirt and debris. Teeth gritting, Styles started to run up to one of the major trenches that the grubs were hiding in and pulled out one of the grenades he had found lying around. They had twenty total, enough to bust up the large groups and cause some chaos into the groups that they were fighting. Styles flung the grenade into the hole and crouched, waiting for the grubs to run out of the hole.

"Styles, move back from there," boomed the commanding voice of Plisken over the gunfire to the surprise of Styles.

* * *

"Styles, move back from there," called Plisken as he caught sight of the boomer that was lumbering up to the hole and had its large gun at the ready.

As Styles got back up from the trench an explosion happened resulting from the corpse stepping on the grenade as it went off and accidentally fired its explosive round at the same time, knocking both Styles and the corpse back. Plisken ran towards the trench as grub fire flew over his head and the explosions from the boomshots that were being fired. Styles was badly injured by the time Plisken had got there, but was still trying to get back on his feet despite the shrapnel that was embedded into his right side and the burns along the right half of his face. Price used his sniper rifle to give them covering fire from the boomers, but found it hard when the explosive rounds started flying at his position. Luckily Morrison was already throwing grenades at the slow moving boomers and took out his gnasher shotgun to take out the remaining boomers.

"Okay Lieutenant, keep yourself calm, the Ravens will be here soon," said Plisken in a calm voice to assure Styles that he'd survive. "We're heading back to the house for now!"

"Yes sir," replied Pvt. Morrison as he provided the covering fire needed for Plisken to pick up styles and carry him to the house. There were still about ten grubs left on the battlefield, but right now they were running out of ammo.

* * *

Price had managed to get Styles fixed up to some degree, but there was still extensive surgery that would have to be performed as soon as they got back to base. The remaining grubs were probably waiting for the right moment to start charging, but it wasn't too big of a threat since he had a good supply of rifle ammo. Morrison had run out of ammo for his gun and couldn't run back to grab it because there were too many grubs to tackle by himself. At the moment, everything was calm and peaceful in a manner that was almost disturbing to the soldiers who had just been knee deep in guts, blood, and bullet riddled corpses. Price turned his head to see Morrison still looking for some ammo for his gun, but had no luck at all with it. At that moment Valentine stood up again, a thing that he had managed to do some hours ago when the bullets were still firing, but now it seemed to be like an omen as his face became a portrait of lament.

"Lieutenant Styles is dead," announced Valentine as he held the dog tags that belonged to the recently departed Lieutenant.

"But he should have been alright, how did he die," asked Price as he rushed over to where Style's body was laying and examined it only to find that he had been dead for some time. The truth hit Price like the hammer searching for a nail. "He was dead when I examined him, I only thought that he was still alive because I wanted him to be alive."

"It's alright, he'll be coming with us as well," said Plisken as he stood up and hoisted his Lancer rifle in his hand with a cigar hanging out of his mouth. "Ravens are gonna be here real soon since most are looking for Alpha squad somewhere far from here. Everything is clear right now for us to go home."

"What about the grubs outside," asked Price as he looked back at Plisken ad he could see the blood on his face.

"Already taken care of," replied Plisken, the blood still pounding through his body as the murderous adrenaline that had helped him kill all the grubs in the front yard still remained. The Ravens finally flew over the horizon towards the fallen, war torn house, and Plisken looked out at the sun behind it."Come on, we better get out there, Morrison bring Sgt. Crane, Price help Valentine, and Darian take your friend as well."

"What about Lt. Styles," asked Valentine as he leaned on Price a bit for support.

"I'll carry him, he was my cousin after all," said Plisken as he kneeled down and picked up the body of Lt. David Styles, his cousin. "This is another dead soldier that I'll never forget nor will I let him be forgotten. That is why I always remain, the memory of the dead."

They were all silent as they got onto the Raven and stayed silent throughout the whole ride. A victory had been one, but the cost was high.


	3. Chapter 3

The Wolf Pack

Disclaimer: I do not own Gears of War.

* * *

It was a dark night in the outskirts of Tollen, quiet settling over the abandoned streets with the only light coming from a few buildings and a stray cigarette light. The smoker stood close to the buildings just in case he needed to dive back into the light with his back to the light as his cobalt eyes looked over the horizon. The emblems on his armor were standard COG markings showing he was a part of Theta squad and was a corporal, but the truth was he had been given the rank of sergeant since his sergeant was dead and he was the senior member of his squad.

The only problem was that most of his squad members were new recruits, still wet behind the ears; most of them didn't even know what a grub looked like. The only hope for them right now was for the training to kick in for them and for his older brother to come help them before they were overrun by Locust.

"Sergeant Plisken, are you coming in," asked one of the younger members, another corporal who had only a year under Plisken himself, Roderick Carmine.

"Yeah Rod, in a bit," replied Sgt. Jack Plisken as he took a long draw from his cigarette and threw it out into the street. Something would put it out or it would just burn up into nothing before it somehow caused a fire, an unlikely thing since it was so far removed from anywhere flammable. "Any word yet on evac or support in this area?"

"Nothing has turned up, sir," replied Carmine as he started to look out while the night vision in his mask helped him see ahead of him. "We've been trying to get in touch with the support squads, but no one has called back in, not even Gamma squad has called in, but command has confirmed that they were sent. You don't think something bad happened to your brother do you?"

"My brother is a hard man to kill, almost as if Death itself would hate to claim him," replied Jack as he started to pull out his knife and cut away at the hair on the long hair. "This war is deeply entrenched with my family, my uncle being a pilot for Ravens , my five cousins, well now two cousins, are out in the army somewhere, my brother is captain and leading against the Locust."

"Yeah, that must be tough having an older brother like that," said Carmine, but he immediately regretted saying those words because it was obvious that the sergeant had been living in the shadow of his older brother. "But then again, I got four brothers of my own in the army, the oldest being probably the best of us, he's a big war hero as well along with my other older brother. Benjamin is going to be getting out of the training and get into the real army soon. I hope he lives though, because even though is it an honor for us to die in battle I'd still miss him."

"I'm sure he'll live, but then again I'd think you'd all have a better chance at surviving if you didn't wear the helmets," said Plisken as he tapped on Roderick's helmet.

"Hey these things might just come in handy if there is smoke, a foul smelling area, or smoke," retorted Carmine in a manner as jokingly as Plisken's comment.

"Yeah but then I wouldn't be able to see snipers that well," joked Plisken before there was a small blast on the other side of the building that was covered in rotting wood and paper and sealed by a door. "Shit! Everyone get ready to defend this place right now!"

The two other members of the squad, Pvt. Victor Thompson and Pvt. Targus Laciter, had jumped up at the explosion, knocking over their guns unfortunately before they both picked them up. In rage, Plisken chewed them up with his words and spit them out in the direction of the disturbance, both men charging forward. The other squad in the area was probably being attacked as well, which worried him because the entire squad members, except for the sergeant, were rookies. Bullets flew over Plisken's head as he brought his Lancer rifle to bare and fired a burst right at one of the grubs that emerged from a hole caused by the explosion.

Another one popped up right behind the fallen grub and Plisken aimed right at its stomach and then fired right at its head. Gore splattered out from the skull of the grub as the bullets tore through its body like rain drops through paper and the grub was reduced to looking like cattle when it came out of the slaughter house. The stench of the dead filled the air along with the trite smell of gunpowder that soon became just as powerful, a smell that only a soldier could stand. Unfortunately that didn't include the rookies, who started to wretch at the fowl smell while Plisken barked at them to keep firing.

Carmine was picking his shots carefully to keep the grubs at bay, but his clip ran empty forcing him to do what every single Carmine had trouble doing, reloading. Even his eldest brother was notorious for having his rifle jam on him, but so far none had died from this problem or at least none that he knew of. He couldn't possibly now that his brother had died only a second before his gun amazingly had a successful reload. With a battle cry he raised his gun and fired scattered shots at the grubs, moving the gun around so that the bullets spread like a broomstick. Dark grey matter mixed with crimson on the walls in a grizzly painting that could only be painted by a metallic brush that would use paints straight from the source and used lead for its bristles.

Pvt. Laciter's vision was clouded by the smoke of gunfire and grenades, a smoke that was tinted with an eerie red that seemed to block up his vision and all he could do was fire at the enemies that he could no longer see. He didn't even realize that he was only seeing red because of the gash on his forehead that caused blood to pour down into his vision or the fact that the adrenaline was pumping into his body, numbing the pain from the wound in his stomach. The private didn't even realize until he tripped over something rubbery and felt a painful tug in his stomach. He looked down to find that it was his intestines and he tried to put them back into his stomach before a bullet hit him in the side of the head.

"We've lost a man," called Pvt. Thompson as he fired his shotgun at the hole, blasting away at the seemingly endless line of Locust that were coming. "They're too many, we'll be running out of ammo soon!"

"Alright then prepare to retreat back to Gamma 6's position," ordered Plisken as he fired his Lancer, praying that his brother would be coming soon to help him. "Thompson, throw a grenade and then start retreating!"

If Pvt. Thompson ever got the message was unknown, for as soon as he had ordered that there was a huge blast into the wall causing pieces of the ceiling to fall on Thompson. Plisken knew that it was now or never and so he nodded to Carmine, who nodded back, and started to run. Bullets flew over their heads as they began retreating, stopping a bit to turn around and fire a shot at their pursuers. Carmine was the first to reach the other building and kept the door open for Plisken to run in, much to the surprise of the squad inside the building. There were no signs of any raids on their area, in fact a few of them were in the middle of cards when they saw the two soldiers burst in.

"Get ready we have Locust trailing us here and I'm pretty sure they're ill tempered," ordered Plisken as he rushed to the windows and looked outside.

There was another battle going on outside between another Gear squad and the Locust. One soldier stood out in the battlefield, charging forward while revving his chainsaw as he brought it down on each Locust he rushed. The spray of bullets flew right over his head as the Locust seemed to be focusing on bringing the soldier whose war cry pierced the night sky and behind him came his men, each one following without question.

When the soldier met the front line he immediately started to lay down a heavy line of fire at the different Locust until his Lancer clicked empty. With a swift and fluid motion, the soldier pulled the lever under the ammo clip, letting the empty clip slide out as he set another one in, his timing and angle perfect.

"Come on let's get out there and support them," barked Plisken as he opened the door and started to run out, his rifle aimed firing as the bullets rippled through everything they hit.

Plisken could see the victory in the day, but he knew that he would be only able to chase after the soldier ahead of them. Grenades went off along with mortar fire, lighting up the night sky as if they were the sun and death rained down on his enemies. From up ahead he could see what was left of the Locust running away from them and the soldier stood there shooting at them with his entire squad obeying his every order. Unlike how it had started, it all died down gradually leaving only Plisken and the soldier left on the area that had been the battlefield, all the other soldiers had left.

"It's been some time since we last met, brother," said Plisken, breaking the quite of the night air that seemed to fall upon the once chaotic night. "You really did well in saving my ass, Kurt."

"David's dead, he died two weeks ago," said Kurt Plisken as he turned around to face his brother and then put a cigarette into his mouth. "I don't want to lose my whole family to this war. We all stay together, like a wolf pack and it's the Alpha Male's job to look over the pack."

* * *

Author's note: I'll be adding more one shots to this story sometimes when i get some inspiration, but I hope you continue to enjoy these tales of the COG.


	4. Chapter 4

Missing In Action

Disclaimer: I do not own Gears of War.

* * *

The early morning fog rose off the ground like a thick smoke and covered everything on the ruined street, it was actually an improvement to the bullet riddle concrete and bits of rubble that lied around. Though it was an improvement, it didn't help the fact that it was going to make moving through the area difficult for Marcus Fenix. Most of his squad members were sharing in his misgivings for the new environmental change, but one of them, the rowdy Thrashball player Pvt. Augustus Cole, was rearing to get into the fight.

When he was first approached by command with the mission, Fenix thought it was his daily COG bullshit that the higher-ups pushed on him just to remind him how much they hated his guts. He could count on his hands the number of times that he had been screwed over by command and going after some captain who managed to get himself lost just sounded like the typical routine of "fucking with Fenix," but when he found out who it was that he was searching for he began to accept it more.

From what he could tell of the captain, Captain Kurt Pliskin, he was a dedicated soldier who looked after his squad and took on all comers, often charging into the heat of the battle. Amongst the COG he was something of a legend, every bit as much as Fenix was, but he was also known for being not known for tolerating any bullshit and often got under some scrutiny with the higher-ups. If it wasn't for his heroic reputation and the fact that he was also in the line to not bitch about a lot of things, Pliskin would have probably been serving in a cell right alongside Fenix.

He was a respectable guy who had the double edge sword of luck. It seemed that Pliskin was one who just wouldn't die, as if the Angel of Death favored him, but his subordinates weren't so lucky, most of those who served with him, even his relatives, suffered an unfortunate death. The man was known for carrying seven dog tags on him, calling them his evil luck charms.

"So then, what are we gonna do with this fog in the air," asked Baird as he started his hourly bitching that would sometimes annoy him, but he knew that to hit Baird would only solve nothing except make the man jumpier.

"It's not that bad, they can't see us as well," remarked Dom as he shouldered his Lancer rifle. Dom was Fenix's best friend and the most trusted person he had in the COG. "We could try moving from building to building if we had to."

"Yeah but we don't know how many are out there or how stable these buildings are," retorted Baird.

"Baird, shut up, we're going to take this slow," said Fenix as he started to hoist his own rifle. "I want all us to stay tight, we'll move to the nearest house, clear it and then see if we can figure out where we are. Cole, you take point."

"Let's go kill us som' grubs for breakfast," shouted Cole like a war cry as he moved in first, his entire body pumped to get into the killing, but then again as Cole said time and time again, he lived for this shit.

Fenix took the right side, his eyes peering through the view point of his gun and he carefully put one foot in front of him as he started to walk. The air had a slight chill to it with some of the staleness from the debris particles that lingered in the air from the destruction that was hidden in the fog. Thankfully there was still some cars, or at least the remnants of cars, littered the street with tints of rust and ash that clung to the metal as if it were the original paint job. If it wasn't for the scattered cover, Fenix might have not risked even trying to walk this way, but then again he might have done so since there was no other alternative route. Tension hung in the air like an oppressive shadow that tried to eat away at their nerves as they waited for the first gunshot to sound out or scream from a grub, anything as long as it cut through the silence.

Fenix would never admit it, but he hated the silence more than he hated the noise of war, probably because it was so unsettling for the area that they were in. Out of the air came a lone bullet that hit the car that Dom was using for cover and it was soon followed by more gunfire, the sound of Hammerburst's filing the air to relieve them from the silence. Fenix grunted in annoyance as he took cover behind one of the totaled cars and started to return fire.

It was difficult to say the least, but then again, the enemy probably didn't have that great of a shot on them as well. Finally one of the grubs came into view only to be riddled with bullets as its flesh was blown off its ribcage in a brutal gory fashion. Behind the dead grub came a squad of grub reinforcements that started to charge the defending Delta, but very few made it far enough to cover.

Fenix kept his fire concentrated on that general area knowing that the random bursts were bound to hit something with how tight the grubs were sticking in their formation. One of his bursts happen to catch a grub in the jaw blasting off one side of it while another bullet went straight into the throat of the grub causing him to jerk back while grabbing at his torn throat. In front was Cole flanking the grub squad on one side with his shotgun, peppering the remaining three grubs with shotgun shells until one was missing his face. It was going to be a closed casket funeral for that grub. That was if the Locust didn't eat their dead.

"Dom, we're coming up to the first house get ready to breach," said Fenix as he stood up and got on one of the sides of the door with Dom on the other side as well, each one armed with their shotgun for close-quarters. "Baird, lay down some cover fire! Cole, if any Locust come I'm sure you can make that judgment call!"

The grubs had closed what was left of the broken door, the bits of wood that still remained made it easy to knock over so all Fenix had to do was give it a tap to fling it open. Baird opened fire on the open door way, bullets covering everything they could to clear a space for Fenix and Dom to get into. So far neither grub had shown themselves, but it at least helped Fenix and Dom tell that they were upstairs. Fenix went first bring his shotgun to aim at anything that happened to pop out while Dom took the rear so that nothing snuck up behind him. Most of the interior was damaged or hadn't been used for a while as attested by the dirt and dust that littered the area.

There was a sound of footsteps from above the two as the sound of boots against the floorboards thudded into the air. The two COG soldiers braced themselves for what they knew was about to happen, anticipation eating at their nerves as every step brought them closer to the steps that lead upstairs. It was very silent save for their breathing and the soft thuds that their boots made on the wooden floor. Then, out of nowhere, hell broke loose as one grub started to shoot through the floorboards while the other went down the stairs. Fenix signaled for Dom to take the one upstairs while he'd take the one on the stairs.

"Die ground walker," came the dark, semi-guttural voice of the grub on the stairs as Fenix whipped his shotgun onto the grub's position and started to open fire.

"You die, shit eater," spat Fenix as he started firing at its arms to impair their ability to fire while going back to concentrating on its torso. Each shot starts to tear into the grub even more until he finally gave one last shot that blew a hole right into its torso. The spine snapped as its guts were flung over all over the walls. "Go to hell you ugly son of a bitch."

"Yeah how about that one mother fucker," said Dom as the bullets exploded into the ceiling and the splinters mixed in with the shell to hit the grub right in the face. The damage blinded it long enough for Dom to fire another blast right through the hole to blow its head off. "Okay, area is clear!"

"Okay then Delta, let's move out while the fog is light, but watch for snipers," warned Fenix as he walked out of the house and started to march with his squad down the street.

There was surprisingly no resistance to the COG forces in this region, almost like a ghost town of some kind. Cole took point again with his Lancer out and sweeping across the area to make sure that he wouldn't be blindsided by anything. Something wasn't right, even if there was fog the Locust would have definitely set up a sniper to take out any careless soldier that it just happened to see. A shot rang out as something flew right past his ear and Marcus dove for cover just like the rest of his team did.

"We got a sniper in the area, watch out there may be more," warned Marcus Fenix as he started to reach down for his knife. Though he always kept it with him, it was more because his first squad leader kept a knife around with him always and the habit was reflected on his students.

Now he was using that very same item to try and pin point the sniper with the reflection of the knife. He curved the edge up a bit so that he could get a good look at the sniper and determine how strong their numbers were. From what he could see, there was only one sniper in one of the attics of the house with a huge hole in the roof of the house where the sniper had set in a lot sandbag.

He could see the sniper reloading the rifle before setting it to fire at them again. There was too much open space for them to cross over and they were without a sniper rifle, things didn't look very good for them. And then the strangest thing happened. For some reason, the sniper that was firing at them went flying out of his cover behind the sandbags and hit the floor with a great thud.

"Damn, now they knows they screwed so they just kill themselves," cursed Cole as he kicked one of the piles of rubble in anger. "Nobody can't handle the Cole Train."

"We better check it out, that might be Pliskin," said Marcus as he started to jog over to the house that the sniper had preoccupied.

The front door was open with a few dead grubs lying around; only two were fresh kills, one with bullet hole wound in the heart while the other one had its torso saw off. The other bodies were probably casualties in raids that they hadn't bothered to bury or do whatever the hell they did with their dead. They could eat shit and die for all Fenix Marcus cared. Some of the furniture in the house was still standing, like the bloody couches in the living room that lay near a destroyed TV. Bloody footprints made by COG boots lead upstairs to an upper floor and followed up the stairway tot eh attic. Most of the baby blue paint had been chipped off by the acrid smoke of war, darkening it into a dreary grey with blood smears on it.

One of the rooms, a child's room, was filled with terrified Stranded, some of them were kids who might have been orphans. There was still some of the unicorn wall paper attached to a wall that had been painted with someone's credentials and from the smell that could be detected, Marcus knew whose. They seemed sort of relieved to see COG soldiers in the house instead of the Locust that were probably waiting for a moment to kill them after they brutalized everyone. Marcus nodded towards them and continued to follow the bloody trail that led him to the sniper's den.

"Well then, I was wondering when I was going to get some evac for these Stranded," said a man dressed in a COG uniform that had seen better days.

The remnants of a black t-shirt seemed to be clinging to his muscular arms with some grim layering most of his clothing. Bandages were wrapped around his bicep from an earlier room with some blood spots on it, though those seemed old. The man had a full beard of black hair that was messy under the sides and his hair had grown longer, the top bangs covering the view of his eyes.

"You must be Captain Pliskin," said Marcus as he reached out a hand and shook hands with the captain. He then patched in a link with command. "Command, this is Delta, we've located Captain Pliskin and a few other Stranded, we need a couple of Ravens for evac."

"Roger that Fenix, but it's going to take some time before the birds get there," replied Anya over the link. "We'll be bringing in the birds soon so stay sharp, Marcus. Command out."

"Alright then, let's hold this position until evac arrives, Baird you're sniping, the rest of you get into a good defensive position," ordered Marcus as he hoisted his Lancer and noticed that Pliskin was picking up his own Lancer rifle. "Are you certain you should be doing that in your condition?"

"I'll not die from these wounds," declared Pliskin as he started to tie a chord around his arm for his Lancer while being able to handle his damaged bicep. With a grunt he turned around and popped a few bones back into place before picking up a torque bow. "They'll be coming soon."

Just as he said that a shot flew right over their heads as a horde of Locust started to swarm the area like angry bees coming to retake their hive. Pliskin spat out the cigarette bud that was in his mouth before taking out another one to light with the heated barrel of his gun. He started firing at the Locust, each burst cutting into the horde as Delta squad joined in. Marcus couldn't help but be impressed at how the man shirked off his injuries and went back to soldiering as if it was nothing. Marcus only knew enough people to take up his hand that could do that.

"There is a troika on the other building," shouted Pliskin over the gunfire. "We should be able to cross the bridge to the other house, but right now it's probably swarming with Locust so I'll take someone tough."

"I got you on that, Cole, get up here and assist Pliskin in taking the next house," barked Marcus as he returned fire on a group of Locust.

"Cole Train's gonna get on dem ugly shits," roared Cole enthusiastically as he followed Pliskin over the bridge while the rest of Delta squad provided covering fire.

"Do you think they're gonna be okay going in their alone," asked Dom over the fire, Marcus could barely hear him.

"It's Cole you're talking about and plus Death seems to have a thing for Pliskin," replied Marucs as he kept up the fire power. Though it was hard to hear anything they could hear Cole shouting.

"YEAH! BRING IT ON SUCKAS, THIS MY KINDA SHIT!"

"And I thought the battle was noisy," remarked Baird as he kept firing the Longshot.

The troika started to sound in the background as they kept up the fire power to cut down most of the Locust that were rushing towards them. Most of the house taking a beating as the little ornaments that were still hanging fell to the ground, shattering into millions of pieces. With a roar Marcus jumped down the stairs to the first floor and started firing through the door way of the house. Limbs and organs were ripped from their owners by the deathly cold, unforgiving metal of war as bodies seemed to pile up on bodies. Still they kept coming as they were being destroyed one by one.

"Damn it, why won't these fuckers just eat shit and die," roared Marcus as he charged out and knocked one down with the butt of his gun while revving up his chainsaw bayonet to cut through the flesh of the unlucky grub. "Now I'm pissed!"

He looked out at the battlefield to see Pliskin making his own charge with a look in his eye that was devoid of every reason. It was the same look in Marcus's eye as he continued to fire at the Locust, even as they started to retreat from their position. Pliskin shoved his Lancer into the back of a grub with the chainsaw bayonet revved up and he started pushing the grub with one hand while firing his Lancer at the rest of the Locust.

A hail of bullets tore through the grub as it felt its insides being cut out by the chainsaw bayonet, but it wasn't dead until the last of its body finally gave out, rendering it to nothing but a mass of useless flesh and bone. The two roared as they fired at the grubs, wild fire covering over everything like a plague, leaving nothing but death and destruction in its wake. When it became apparent that the COG was not going to give up their position, the Locust started to retreat so that they wouldn't lose more than they already had lost. The adrenaline was pulsing in their bodies as they tried to calm down after the fighting had ended. Ravens roared in the far distance as black forms came over the horizon.

"Figures they'd come when it's over," said Plisken as he brought his Lancer to ease. He turned to Marcus and held out his hand. "You should be a Captain right now."

"I guess they don't like me very much," replied Marcus as he shook his hand. "But at least they still have captains who've earned their rank in the Gears."

"Ah don't tell me the games over," shouted Cole as he walked out of the building he was guarding. "I knew dose ugly motha fuckas wasn't up to going overtime!"


End file.
